The Siege on Iridonia
by Leo Charles M
Summary: Another in the Journals series. This is a Homerian Epic focused on Iridonia and the Zabrak race. Mother Talzin's holocrons tell a legendary story about the Zabrak'hao: the Son of Suns who would unite the warlike clans of Iridonia and lead the Zabrak to a golden age. As a part of my WIP, comments and critiques are vitally important. Hope you enjoy, R&R welcome!
1. Part 1

The Siege on Iridonia

It is really hard to maintain scientific standards when you are digging into the great mystery of the Force. There are certain nuances that have baffled and excited me in equal portion with every successive discovery. One of those nuances is that the Sith holocrons are supremely easier to unlock and access than the Jedi. At first thought, I was certain the volatile and shadowy relics would prove more formidable opponents, but was pleasantly surprised to be mistaken. By comparison, I would never have cracked the Jedi holocrons or completed my algorithm without the accessibility of the dark relics.

In retrospect I should have known the Dark Side would be less discerning and thereby more accessible, almost desperate for attention. But I found the dark relics intimidating, to say it plainly. A trio of metallic prisms, made of tarnished gold and black iron, were especially evil-looking and more than once visited me in my nightmares. They each held a symbol on them: a horn, a starburst and an open eye, and when properly manipulated they glowed magma-red.

Daunting as it was to handle them, the Intentus key proved its efficacy and unlocked the archives of a being known as Mother Talzin.

Her mysterious coven from Dathomir was known as the Nightsisters and she was their leader for centuries. Dathomir is a nearly isolated planet that does not have a place in Galactic records beyond the most basic statistics. It had twin suns, much of the world was barren or toxic and where the dessert ended strangling jungle corroded the landscape. It was a harsh place that mirrored the hard conditions of its brother planet nearby, Iridonia.

From the meager data-samples I've observed, it would appear that the Nightsisters were a clan of witches that survived a pre-historic apocalyptic event on the planet. By all of Talzin's accounts, the sisters were thriving for a time that culminated in an alliance with Emperor Palpatine himself, if she's to be believed. I look forward to learning more about her and her sisters and disseminating those tales, but the legend of the Son of Suns is not a Dathomirian prophecy... It is a legend of Iridonia and it belongs to the xenospecies, the Zabrak.

The Zabrak are a species with immense societal pride. Their race originated as an ancient Rakatan experiment gone, well... It is hard to say if the Zabrak eclipsed or disappointed their creator's expectations, but what resulted was a warrior race with an eternal chip on their shoulder. A Zabrak takes pride in being Zabrak, in surviving the trials of their society and their world and show it with their horns and their tattoos. Great sweeping and swooping curls of metalloid ink that tell the tales of their ancestors, their clan and their personal conquests. The horns, the tattoos, the attitude: the Zabrak.

Iridonians are isolationists at their core, they do not conform and they do not surrender. Mother Talzin explains it that their society was not civilized enough understand the merits of surrender, nor the value of hostages, or honest negotiation; but I suspect that is a matter of opinion. By my accounting, this bloodlust is a hereditary leftover from their inception. The Rakata that masterminded many species including the Zabrak, were foolish enough to think they could build specialized copies of the warlike Sith race.

The Rakatan Masters were incorrect and many of their misguided attempts still live with the consequences of those errors tens of thousands of years later. Another of those residual effects, I believe, is the Zabrak prophecy of a chosen one. The prophecy of the Sith'ari, the perfect Sith who would conquer and then one day destroy the Galaxy, is the keystone to all Sith history and lore. I learned of this prophecy firsthand from a Dark Jedi, who told me that it drove his brotherhood to the brink of extinction. It would appear, with the clarity of hindsight that was unavailable to Talzin, the Zabrak inherited that very same trait.

At the core of Iridonian tradition is a prophecy of a chosen one known as the "Zabrak'hao". Traditional lore spoke of the "Son of Suns" who would come to the clans of Iridonia and unite them under a single Zabrak banner. Zabrak'hao would lead the clans in a purge of the Galaxy and the Zabrak would finally experience the golden age their Rakata overlords once promised them. It is this prophecy that intrigued me and led me to dig deeper into Talzin's archive.

The parallels to the Jedi prophecy are subtle but upon completion, utterly undeniable. If this Journal is a compilation of the Chose One prophecies that have influenced our Galaxy, then the Siege of Iridonia is a necessary addition.

The Siege of Kuhl is a story of such epic proportion that it is astounding that it is not a more widely-shared legend. It's as if Mother Talzin had no way of referring to the Zabrak without bringing up the bloody conflict. It was a horrific affair that scarred Zabrak culture and wiped two great Clans from the face of Iridonia.

It is not a Jedi tale, nor is it a Sith tale-well, not directly, but I'll explain that later-but there is an unmistakable thread of truth that ties this story to the others in this Journal: the prophecy of the Chosen One as a societal necessity when hope is at its darkest. Like the Basilisk nearly 3000 years before them, the Zabrak found need for their prophecy in their most bleak hour and found hope in the Sun of Sons.


	2. Part 2

Kuhl was the greatest city in all of Iridonia and boasted the world's first Gamut-spectrum plasma ray-shield that could fully encompass the metropolis. The city-shield was a marvel of off-world technology. And while some thought it was a gift from the gods, all of the Clans of Iridonia took note of Clan Kuhjuhl.

The red and tan-skinned lords of Clan Kuhjuhl made the city of Kuhl both great in strength and in culture. Street markets overflowed with artisans and tradesmen, the coliseum overflowed weekly and the ale flowed freer than water in the oasis city. Even before the advent of the city-wide shield, a gargantuan Geocrete wall blanketed the sprawling city in three concentric rings. Everything about the house that Lord Pre'am of Clan Kuhjuhl built was decadent and lavish and inspired envy where it did not inspire awe.

Envy is like love: it grows as you foster it and if allowed to, it will change you forever.

It is envy that gripped Saulen, leader of Clan Memnan. Green-skinned tribe of proud desertlords, Memnan had ever looked on the oasislords with disdain. But now the impenetrable ray-shield of Kuhl was an insult to him. Not just Lord Saulen but to all other Zabrak, for that matter. In his rage, he called upon the great clan-leaders of every province of Iridonia and a quorum was formed.

The leader of Clan Memnan put on the most grandiose festival the histories of Iridonia could remember. Saulen and his wife Klitaminis spared no expense in the revelries and predilections on display and before the festivities came to a close, the quorum was inclined to agree with anything the magnanimous Saulen and his benevolent wife would suggest. But it was Ifigenia, their oldest daughter, with her spectacular crown of pearl-white thorns, silver-lined white tattoos and her unmatched dancing skills, who bewitched the clan-leaders hearts and minds. With their loyalty in the palm of her hand, Saulen of Clan Memnan held his daughter close and proclaimed himself King of Iridonia and the clan-leaders swore their fealty.

All but Lord Pre'am of Clan Kuhjuhl, that is.

Pre'am knew no fear, even under threat of a united Iridonia, he had faith in his shield and in his warriors. Kuhl was insulated from the petty politics and squabbling of the other Clans. And so long as any clan denied him, King Saulen would never be Zabrak'hao. The conflict would not take long to boil over into outright war.

But while the forces of Iridonia amassed under the united banner of Clan Memnan, Kuhl continued to revel and dance and sing and play under their impenetrable defenses. And indeed, the first years of the war between Memnan and Kuhjuhl was fruitless for the newly proclaimed King. Try as his brave Zabrak warriors might, the walls were too high, the ray-shields too strong. After years of embarrassing stalemate the shamed King Saulen had to retreat his great Zabrak army.

Kuhl celebrated like it had never celebrated before. Such brazen defiance of the would-be-king led the people of Kuhl to pronounce their own lord Pre'am, King of Kuhl and the rightful Zabrak'hao! It was a wonderful time for Clan Kuhjuhl and it is during this revelry that Extor, oldest son of Pre'am and heir to the throne of Kuhl, fathered a son named Asjanax.

Asjanax was a burgundy skinned Zabrak, for red skin was the hallmark of Clan Kuhjuhl, with striking black horns and the most sincerely loveable smile any Zabrak ever had. His name meant "light of the city" in their native tongue, all in Kuhl adored him, all but his uncle Priis. Priis was not the vengeful sort, he was strong and passionate but loyal beyond anything. He loved his family and even his nephew, whose very existence ensured he would never inherit his father's throne, but found the celebrations hollow. So in the midst of his family and his tribe's greatest revelry, he left hearth and home for the wilds of Iridionia.

In his desperation the shamed king of Iridonia called together another war-band, larger than before, including the world's most advanced engineers under a renegade clan-leader named Disseus, and a warlord Oakilli of Clan Mirmidon. Disseus was as wily as he was prudent and tried to plead with King Saulen to see reason. Clan Kuhjuhl must have a way to get supplies in-and-out of the city with the shield up. They need only find it and they'd have a way behind Kuhl's defenses. So it was that Disseus and his engineers set off and promised to return to the king with a way to defeat Kuhl.

Time was all he asked for, and all that King Saulen could not offer.

Prince Priis of Clan Kuhjuhl took to the road as well and found himself wandering for years while Kuhl enjoyed its peace and prosperity. There then came a time that the prince found himself seeking out the gods for guidance. He did not want to wander anymore, he wanted a home and a life of his own. Priis came upon a tiny oasis and a young female Zabrak named Elen who was drinking there. She was pale and shapely and her skin was scrawled in the most intricate and floral tattoos that Priis had ever seen.

He was convinced she was a mirage, a dream the gods had offered him before he died of exhaustion in the dreary desert. But he loved her more than anyone had ever loved anyone, so he found himself grateful to be able die this way. She held out her arms and dropped the sword she had in her hand. Priis fell into her embrace and together they kissed and loved and cried till they slept by the oasis; too strangers found in the desert, madly in love.

As the time passed, King Saulen of Clan Memnan plunged into a deep and dark madness, forced by the audacious new king of Kuhl. Saulen raved that gods had abandoned him and swore to earn their favor again, at any cost. His eyes were full of fire, he frothed at the mouth and banned all in his kingdom from referring to the rebel city.

The cold war between Memnan and Kuhjuhl was taxing King Saulen beyond his limits. The clan-lords were growing restless and as time passed their loyalty dwindled. The king of Clan Memnan's bloodlust knew no end and in his madness a sinister scheme congealed and he called together a second quorum of Clans.

The clan-leaders all watched in devastating, grim silence as their king brought his daughter before them once more. Lovely Ifigenia was dressed in the finest white silks that hands could craft. By Iridonian standards the royal princess looked like an angel that had descended from the clouds. And as Queen Klitaminis sobbed in protest, the desperate king of Iridonia ran his golden sword through his daughter's heart, laughing and crying and praying that the gods would accept his sacrifice.


	3. Part 3

The warlords of Iridonia would never be the same as an insurmountable reverence bound the Zabrak clans to King Saulen of Clan Memnan's rule. With Ifigenia's blood still warm on his hands, he ordered his legions to surround Kuhl and besiege the pretender king once more. Now the thousand clans from every continent of Iridonia converged upon the seat of Clan Kuhjuhl's power with slavish devotion to their incomparable King Saulen.

But not all were enthralled by the king's sacrifice, namely his wife and queen Klitaminis. While King Saulen began his zealous war, his wife betrayed him and stole the sword Aggrothas from his personal armory. She sent her sister Elen away with the mighty weapon in her possession. The fair skinned maid was pursued through the wilds of Iridonia but was never found by Saulen's soldiers.

The great Zabrak war-band began a ceaseless barrage on Kuhl that was terrific and utterly ineffective. The ray-shields endured and the king of Clan Kuhjuhl grew bolder as the siege grew larger around him. King Pre'am threw a great feast for all of his kingdom. The whole city turned out and ordered the minstrels to fill the entire city with so much music that the melodies could drown out the thundering barrage.

King Saulen was humiliated again and turned his anger on his generals and any that remained near during his spells of blind rage. But as Clan Kuhjuhl celebrated their supreme triumph, a weakness was exposed. Disseus and his clever clanmates were able to track a supply train that fed the larder for the festivities. Though they were unable to fully discover the entrance, he was encouraged that it, in fact, existed and was worth hunting.

At the close of the festival, King Pre'am was made gladder even still by the return of his youngest son, Prince Priis and his new, lovely bride. Elen was strikingly fair and loved Priis with all her being, and Pre'am was pleased in a way that he never thought he could ever feel. In his love-haze he issued forth a challenge to the pretender king of Iridonia: He would choose a challenger from his legions to face the Champion of Kuhjuhl, the winner's champion would be eternally crowned King of Iridonia. The war would be over and only one Zabrak would have to die.

It was suicide.

Clan Memnan brought forth their legendary warlord Oakilli and Kuhl issued forth the heir apparent, and the greatest general of the Kuhjuhl legions: Prince Extor. Oakilli, lord of the Mirmidon's, fought with a spear and aegis, then a pair of short-swords that flashed silvery in the dual-sunlight. Extor carried a huge roundshield and trident into the duel and then eventually traded them for a double-bladed polearm. It appeared as two broadswords attached by a couple hand-lengths of staff in the middle, which his hands danced across during combat.

Mother Talzin goes into deep detail about this moment because of the momentous nature of this sort of thing in Zabrak culture. But for the sake of this Journal I will simply say that the champion of the Memnan horde was victorious and cut down the prince in full view of the horrified city. King Saulen had struck his first real blow against Kuhl and the pompous Pre'am, but just as he wanted to relish his conquest, the shields of the city resumed their function and shut out the Memnan forces again.

In the dead of night, a mysterious and unexpected thing occurred: King Pre'am slipped through the siegelines himself and visited King Saulen in his private quarters. It is uncertain all that was discussed in this clandestine meeting, but one thing did come from it that no one doubted: a truce was declared to allow for proper burial and mourning rights for the slain prince Extor. It was an unexpected concession that drove many to question King Saulen's nerve.

But Disseus was alerted and followed an unsuspecting Pre'am to discover the hidden postern gate that made Kuhl accessible through protective contingencies. The fight was over before it truly even began. Disseus and Oakilli led their men through the back-door while the city mourned and grieved their slain prince. From the postern that kept Kuhl alive, the legions of Zabraks poured and the city was besieged anew. Clan Memnan attacked the city with all the combined strength of Iridonia. Pre'am saw his doom coming for his family, saw the end of everything before him, and acted in the only way that made sense to his beleaguered mind: he took up his grandson Asjanax - the Light of Kuhl - into his arms and leapt from the highest parapet of the palace.

When Prince Priis heard of his father and nephew's demise he pulled all the fighting men of Clan Kuhjuhl back to the citadel to defend it. While the brave Zabrak fought off a world of warriors, Priis brought a young pilot with him into the catacombs of the palace. Deep beneath the stone and Geocrete was a vault that held the greatest secrets of house Kuhjuhl and perhaps all of Iridonia. Priis retrieved a trinket and the weapon Aggrothas from that deep, dark place and with the pilot and his wife Elen by his side, they stole aboard a Memnan ship and blasted their way out of the atmosphere of Iridonia.

Here it is said that King Saulen, Lord of Clan Memnan and unchallenged King of all Iridonia declared himself the Zabrak'hao. He took Kuhl for his new capital and sent for his wife and queen to relieve her of her mourning. In the most lavish and splendid ceremony that bankrupted all of Iridonia, King Saulen welcomed his wife and Queen Klitaminis to their new home.

She came to him in a gown of pure white, no longer draped in the black of her mourning, glowing and brilliant as a star in the midnight sky. The king opened his arms to embrace her again. In the instant that King Saulen felt the most powerful, most accomplished, most encompassing Zabrak that had ever lived: Klitaminis produced a tiny knife from her breast and rammed it deep into her king's throat. They both died there on the dais, Klitaminis beside her husband, her white gown drenched red like her daughters before her, and an incorrigible smile upon her regal face.


End file.
